


The Boy Who Cried Ghost

by spacebanes



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 1870s, 1910s, 1920s, 1930s, 1950s, 1980s, 1990s, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Angst, Death, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, M/M, Modern times, Rating May Change, alec sees ghosts, fun times occur, magnus is scared of ghosts, real sad real fast, takes place in modern times with flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebanes/pseuds/spacebanes
Summary: The Institute was a site of great tragedy. From Tessa Gray and Will Herondale, the original owners of the house, to the Lightwood family, the last people to ever live in it, all who lived in the house met a violent end. All except for Alec. Alec Lightwood is cursed with the ability to see ghosts, including those of his dead family and the rest of the ghosts that wander through the abandoned halls of The Institute and scare people on ghost tours. They’re all very friendly ghosts, just annoying. They also try to convince Alec to ask out his cute new neighbour who’s terrified of ghosts, and that might just be his biggest problem of all.





	The Boy Who Cried Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not fully edited, so please feel free to point out any spelling or grammatical errors that you find as well as things that don’t make sense so I can fix them :)

“I cannot thank you enough Mr. Lightwood.”

Alec smiled, reaching over and patting her on the hand. “I told you Jocelyn, you can call me Alec. And I’m beyond happy to help, really.”

Jocelyn wiped at her eyes, giving Alec a teary smile as she stood up. He followed suit, patting her back comfortingly as she pulled him into a strong hug. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Take good care of my daughter.”

Alec held back from telling her that there wasn’t much he could do to take care of Clary. He figured that wasn’t exactly what he’d have wanted to hear if he was in her position either, so he held his tongue. 

Clary tapped his shoulder and he pulled away from Jocelyn, turning to look at the young girl. “Tell her I love her?” She asked. 

Alec nodded at her and turned back to Jocelyn. “Clary says that she loves you.”

“I love you too,” She smiled, more tears gathering in her eyes as she looked to the spot beside Alec. “So much.” 

Clary was standing in the place she was looking at, all three of them were aware of that, but Jocelyn couldn’t see her. Only Alec could, nobody else had the ability. Nobody alive anyways. Clary Fairchild was a ghost, dead to the world to every but Alec Lightwood and the other ghosts that ran around The Institute. Jocelyn was her mother, and ever since she’d learned that Alec could see her daughter she’d been going to see him every few weeks, letting him be the middleman so she could talk to her children. Clary’s brother, Jonathan, was also there, but he didn’t show up to talk a lot. More often than not he was hiding, too overcome with self hatred to be willing to face his mother. She said she understood, that she was okay with not seeing him if it meant that he was more comfortable, but she always had Alec tell him that she missed him. Jonathan would always come to talk to her on special occasions, but other appearances were rare. 

“Alec! Alec tell her I love her too! Alec!”

Alec rolled his eyes fondly, turning to look at Simon, who was standing at the top of the stairs and leaning over the railing. If he wasn’t already dead Alec was sure his recklessness when it came to high places would kill him. “Simon wants you to know that he loves you too.” He said, turning back to where Jocelyn was standing. 

She raised an eyebrow in surprise but looked in the general direction of where Simon was standing. “Hi Simon! I love you too!” She smiled brightly, even if it was sad at its core, and waved at him. Jocelyn had never met Simon while he was alive and had only heard small bits about him that Alec relayed from either Clary or the boy himself, but she’d seemingly adopted Clary’s best friend from the afterlife. 

Simon waved back. He seemed to have difficulties registering that people couldn’t see him, no matter how long he’d been dead for. Alec guessed that was partially his fault. They didn’t really have a lot of living people try to communicate with them besides him. 

“It was good to see you Jocelyn.” Alec said, smiling warmly at her. 

She smiled in return, pulling him into another quick hug before pulling away and heading for the door. “Bye Clary, bye Simon!” She called, turning back to Alec for a second as she hovered in the doorway. “Is there anyone else here?”

Alec looked around the room, scanning for any other ghosts, and caught sight of Church lounging on one of the benches by the front door. “Just Church.” He said, smiling a little when the cat made a soft noise at the mention of its name. 

Jocelyn smiled as well before turning back to Alec, waving at him once again before stepping out the door and closing it behind her. Clary let out a sad sigh, staring wistfully at the wood for a minute before walking over to where Church was laying. She scooped the cat up, laughing a little when he made an annoyed sound at being disturbed, squirming a bit in her hold to make herself more comfortable before settling down and purring as she scratched behind his ears. Alec watched the two fondly for a second before turning away, walking towards a different part of the house. He could hear the telltale sounds of Clary following behind him as he went, her soft steps and Church’s loud purring only a couple of feet behind him at all times. 

The Institute was closed that day. It was often open for ghost tours, something that had originally pissed Alec off before he realised how much fun everyone involved got out of it and decided to let them go for it. The others played along as well, a couple of the more rambunctious ghosts finding it fun to mess with the guests. Paranormal investigators sometimes showed up as well, trying their best to capture a ghost on camera. Alec never stuck around for those. He wouldn’t do what he did for money, no matter how much it was, and he preferred to be out of the spotlight as much as possible. He did the little conversation with grieving families for free. They almost always tried to pay him and he turned down their money every time without fail. He didn’t want it. Easing the pain families were in due to the death of a loved one, no matter how minimal, was always worth the little bit of effort he had to put in. The smiles the ghosts would often give him when they learned that they could be seen were a nice touch as well. Being by yourself for so long, able to see everyone and everything around you but not being seen or heard yourself, it messed with them. It was why so many ghosts ended up malicious. They were driven insane by their own solitude. 

Alec Lightwood could see ghosts. It was an ability he’d had since he was a child, something that was apparently passed down through his family. None of them had developed it in a few generations and the ability was thought to have died out, so the shock everyone received when he casually mentioned the man that lived in their attic was quite large. It was never something he flaunted or bragged about, no matter how much his siblings wanted him to. While telling the other kids at his elementary school about the deceased janitor that haunted the gym had been fun, the older he got the less people outside of his family started to believe him. It wasn’t until they moved into The Institute that his ability became more of a curse than anything else. The Institute was a sight of great tragedy. About a dozen people had died in the house during its long standing history, all in different and increasingly more tragic ways. It made sense that the house would attract a family whos son could see dead people. 

Alec had been nineteen when the Lightwood family moved in. The house was massive, standing tall on a hill just outside the town of Idris. It was closer to Alicante University, the university Alec was attending, than their old house had been, so he’d moved in with them. His father, Robert Lightwood, had hoped it would bring the family closer together for them to live together out of walking distance from another person. What he failed to comprehend was that the family was just as close, if not closer, than they’d always been. It was him and his affair that were being left out of that. All of them were okay with that. Jace, who the Lightwoods had adopted when he was much younger, had been eighteen when they’d moved in. He was due to graduate in four months from the date and had been adamant about moving out the second he was old enough. Isabelle, who was sixteen at the time, and Max, who was nine, hadn’t been as uncomfortable with the idea as everyone had expected them to be. 

With the history of death that covered the house, everyone expected it to have been crawling with ghosts. And it had been, it’s just that none of the Lightwood’s knew about it. They didn’t make themselves known to any of them, least of all Alec, and instead decided to stay hidden. He was slightly saddened by it. It was hard for him to tell when he’d actually seen a ghost anymore. For all he knew half of the people he saw at the university every morning were ghosts. They looked the same, all human in appearance unless they were the ghost of an animal. Part of him craved the feeling that came with talking with the ghosts, the looks they’d get as they realized they could have a real conversation with him, the history he could learn about from them. It was exciting, it was fascinating, and most of all it was unique to him. It was the one thing he could do that nobody else could do better because he was the only one capable. As selfish as it sounded, he enjoyed being able to be better at something than everyone else. Jace and Izzy always tried to help him find the ghosts, teasing him about his inability to see them when he was the ghost man, that was his job. They both desperately wanted to interact with the ghosts in the house. Neither of them ever got the chance. Not while they were alive anyways. 

May 25th, 2015. Four days before Jace was set to graduate. Ten days after Isabelle turned seventeen. Two weeks before the divorce between Maryse and Robert was due to be finalised. Three months before Max was due to turn ten. Four months after they had moved in. At approximately two thirty AM, The Institute caught fire. Every member of the family, save for Alec, who had been at a party that night, was still inside. There were no survivors. Izzy, Jace, and Maryse all came back, haunting the place as ghosts. Robert and Max didn’t. Max tore them up more than anything else.

“Yo, Lightwood,” Maia called, smiling at him when he walked into the kitchen. “How’s your day going?” 

She was sitting on the counter, legs swinging slightly as she tossed an apple between her hands. She lifted it, going to take a bite and frowning sadly when it passed through her face. Ghosts couldn’t eat, food would completely pass through them when they’d try, but Maia was determined to find a way to do it anyways. The apple fell to the floor when she tossed it back to her other hand. 

“Tiring.” He said, smiling at her and pulling his hand through his hair. As much as he enjoyed making Jocelyn happy with the little visits between her and Clary, they took a lot out of him. The two talked up a storm every time she was there. 

“I’m sorry for talking so much,” Clary said, coming to rest next to where Maia was sitting, flashing her a quick and bright smile. Church was still settled contently in her arms. “It’s just been a while, you know?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved off her apology, grabbing an apple from the basket on the counter and taking a bite. Maia glared at him and he winked in response, earning a laugh from Clary and an exasperated sigh from Maia.

“Guys!” Simon called, running into the kitchen and sliding across the tiled floor. He caught himself on the island before he could crash into it. “Has anybody seen Luke?”

The three looked at each other, a slow realisation passing over all of them. It was early February, the same time Luke had died so many years before. The ghosts all got a little antsy around the time of their deaths, some taking on roles of where they’d been when it happened. If they couldn’t shake each other out of it they’d sometimes be that way for weeks, months even. Alec hated to see that happen, especially to people as good as the ones that inhabited The Institute. “I’ll go look for him.” Alec said, already having an idea of where Luke might be. It was where he always seemed to be that time of year.

Simon nodded and none of them moved to follow him. They knew that he liked to do things like that alone. He tossed his half eaten apple towards Simon, who caught it quickly, fumbling with it a bit before it settled in his hand. He looked up at the other three, eyes wide and a triumphant smile forming on his face before it fell through his hand and hit the floor. Making contact with things aside from furniture of walls and floors was hard for ghosts. Some, like Maia, had an easier time than others, like Simon. He’d been working on trying to move things as best as he could, a look of pride crossing his face every time he’d succeed, no matter how short the period of time it lasted was. Alec was happy for him. As annoying as he could be, Simon was a good kid. He deserved better than what he’d gotten, and if that meant he had to get joy out of throwing pens at Alec every once and a while so be it. His complaints were never serious, just teasing. Simon knew that, and he also knew not to push it with him. The amount of times Alec would have smacked him upside the head had he been physically able grew higher each day. 

Alec grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair he’d thrown it over when he arrived earlier in the day. Ghosts may not have been able to feel the cold but he could, and he did it easily and frequently. As relentlessly as they teased him about his need for layers when it got even the littlest bit cold he always wore a jacket, and more often than not he was glad he had. Ghost teasing be damned. Will, Jem, and Tessa were sitting out on the back porch when he stepped outside. Will and Tessa had been the original owners of the house, the trio the oldest ghosts in the building. 

“Alec!” Tessa greated him cheerily, standing up from the bench she’d been sitting on and walking over to give him a light hug. Of everyone there she had the easiest time by far with making physical contact with things, including Alec and some of their ghost tour guests if she felt so inclined. She couldn’t place the reason why, much to the disappointment of the others, who wanted to do it as easily as she could. 

“How are you this afternoon?” Jem asked, smiling cheerily at him from his place on the bench. 

“I’m good, thank you,” Alec smiled back, pulling away from the hug. Being able to touch Tessa was still odd to him, but he’d never complain about it. There was no reason to. It was an amazing thing to him. “Have any of you seen Luke?”

A look of soft understanding passed over all of their faces. Will nodded his head in the direction of the court yard, patting Alec on the shoulder as he passed. His hand made contact for most of the action, passing through him right before he went to pull it away. Alec shivered and Will gave him an apologetic smile.

“Tell him we say hi, won’t you?” Tessa asked, folding her hands together in front of her.

Alec nodded. “Will do.”

Luke was exactly where Alec had anticipated him being. He was leaning against a fence at the back of the courtyard, the farthest out from the house any of them could get. It was where Luke had died, so it was only natural that that’s where he gravitated when it got close to the anniversary of the event. He didn’t say anything as Alec stepped up next to him, didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. He simply stood, forearms braced on top of the beams as he watched the road in the distance. Alec mirrored his position, watching him carefully for a few seconds before turning his attention to the road as well. It was silent between them for a few, long minutes, the only sounds either could hear were the very distant noises of afternoon traffic and the wind in the trees around them. 

“How are you dealing?” Alec finally asked, turning his attention from the road to the man beside him. That was always what he’d ask Luke. He’d never ask him if he was okay, never if he needed anything, because he knew those answers already. Luke had been a dad before he died, he knew how to pretend to be okay, and Alec knew direct questions wouldn’t get him to open up. Asking how he was dealing, if he was dealing at all, that was easier. Luke could answer that, that was an easy question. He’d said so himself. Alec never really got it, thinking it was much the same as asking how he was, but he didn’t question it. Luke knew what was best for him, who was Alec to judge that?

Luke didn’t say anything right away, didn’t turn his eyes away from the road, and Alec would have been sure he didn’t hear him at all if it weren’t for the sigh he let out and the slight slump of his shoulders. “The best I can.”

“It’s this friday, right?” He asked. Luke nodded. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. Alec took it. “Do you want me to get them to cancel tours that day? Cause I can. You don’t have to deal with all of that if you don’t want to.” Alec knew that the tours were hard on them when they weren’t feeling the best, the people all talking about them and to them without being able to truly see them being draining for them mentally. 

“I’ll think about it.” Luke said after a while, pulling his eyes away from the road and turning them towards Alec. Making eye contact with ghosts was a somewhat weird feeling, but he didn’t try to avoid it. He knew it made them feel better, more human, more alive. Clary had confessed as much to him once, the others confirming the feeling when he’d asked them about it individually. It was odd to them that Alec was the only one who could see them, but they all appreciated it. They were friends, and as far as he knew they all liked him. He was glad, because he didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t. He would stay away from the house, that was a given, but not being able to see his siblings and his mom when he knew that it was an option, that would break him. They all knew that too, he thought. That’s why they didn’t question the frequency at which he showed up for no reason. They all sought comfort in different ways. 

“I’m here,” Alec said, turning his body to fully face Luke, keeping one arm braced on the fence. “If you wanna talk about something. Always. No matter what.”

Luke nodded again and turned his attention back to the road, not saying anything else as he watched the cars go by. Something about modern technology, especially cars, fascinated him that Alec couldn’t quite place but knew better than to question. Ghosts usually didn’t like to be asked about things that implied that they were dead. He’d learned that the hard way with the janitor ghost in elementary school. Alec took the continued silence as his cue to leave. Luke was okay, and he never really strayed too far into the ‘going-insane-on-the-anniversary-of-my-death’ territory that others often did. It was a common occurrence that Alec hated to witness. It’s what had happened to the man in the attic in the first house the Lightwoods lived in. They’d had to move out because he got too violent.

Jace and Izzy were in the yard when he got back to the house. Maryse was there too, sitting on the deck knitting. Somehow she’d found a way to do that, her ability to interact with things higher than most of the others. Death had relaxed her. Alec hated to admit it, but he’d seen her at peace more often in the four years since her passing than he had since he was a child. She still got stressed out sometimes, would still grieve for the loss of all three of her kids, especially Max. But she was calmer, more at ease than she had been when she was alive. In her case, as much as it pained Alec to say, death had ended up being a good thing.

“Hermano!” Izzy called, her attention being pulled away from the ball her and Jace were attempting to kick back and forth. It rolled straight through her leg as a consequence, banging into a tree from how forcefully Jace had hit it. The two of them, much like Simon, were working to be able to touch and move things as much as they could. Izzy claimed it was because she missed hugging her brother, and while Jace said he missed being able to use the internet, Alec saw the wistful looks on his face every time Tessa would give him a hug. It was something they all wanted back. Hugging a ghost wasn’t the same.

“Hey Iz.” He smiled. He nodded at both of them, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked to get some heat back into them. 

Maryse looked up from her knitting, grinning at him as he collapsed down on the step below the one she was sitting on. He leaned back against her legs slightly and she laughed a little, running her fingers through his hair. The touch was ever so slight, but it was present nonetheless. It comforted him a way he couldn’t quite explain and didn’t really want to. 

“You gonna hang out with us tonight or are we being abandoned?” Jace called over. He’d retrieved the ball from where it had ended up earlier, going in to kick it. His foot went straight through and he almost fell. He flipped Izzy off when she laughed at him. 

“I figured I should probably go home,” Alec sighed, leaning further into his mother’s touch. “My new neighbour is supposed to be moving in today.”

Izzy lit up at that. “Really? Have you met them yet? Do you know what they’re like?”

Alec laughed and shook his head. “I know his name is Magnus and that he’s around my age. That’s it.”

She pouted, giving the ball an extra hard kick. It made direct contact with Jace’s dick, the ball hitting him instead of passing through him. He would have been proud of himself if he weren’t doubled over in pain. Izzy and Alec both laughed, tears burning Alecs eyes as he bent over, the misfortune of his brother bringing his mood up. Even Maryse laughed a bit, soft chuckles leaving her mouth as Jace groaned on the ground. 

“Oh mijo,” she sighed, wiping at her eye with the edge of her finger. “Only you would manage to get hit in the balls after death.”

Her comment just spurred Izzy and Alec to laugh harder, Jace joining in a bit himself from his position in the grass. Izzy sighed, wiping her eyes as she collapsed down onto the grass with him, flopping back and leaning her head on his stomach. Alec always wondered if they felt as cold to each other as they did to him, but he didn’t ask. It seemed somewhat insensitive. The family fell into an easy silence, all four of them focused on different things. Alec watched as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, the day seeming shorter than it had actually been. Tours would start again the next day. He’d probably come back, chat with the ghosts a bit and make sure nobody said anything rude. Just because they were dead didn’t mean they had no feelings. Ghosts were people too. The living often seemed to forget that. 

“I should probably go,” Alec sighed, reluctantly pulling himself away from his mother. “Neighbour might need some help moving in.”

“Let me know if he’s cute,” Izzy teased, sitting up and winking at him. Jace shuffled into a sitting position as well behind her. “Better yet, bring him with you!”

Alec rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

“You better.” Izzy stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Iz, bye Jace,” he groaned as he forced himself to his feet. “Bye mama.”

Maryse smiles up at her son, watching him as he retreated to the front of the house and to his car. The ghosts couldn’t go much further than the end of the driveway for reasons he didn’t understand. Jem was sitting by himself out on the front porch, Church curled up on his lap as he read a book. He waved at Alec when he saw him. Alec waved back before slipping into the car, patting down his pockets to make sure he had everything and doing up his seat belt before he backed out of the driveway. It was time for him to meet whoever Magnus was. He only hoped he wouldn’t be an asshole. Getting along with his neighbour would be a welcome change, he thought as he started on the drive home.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, this is gonna be one hell of a fic. I’ve had this idea bouncing around my head for a while (like two years now) and I’m finally getting around to writing it! I’ll try my best to update this as frequently as possible but I make no guarantees that it’ll be as often as any of you would like. Please let me know what you think comments fuel my will to live.


End file.
